


Surreptitious

by Signed_Heart



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:27:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23211736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Signed_Heart/pseuds/Signed_Heart
Summary: Lucius studied his son, watched the emotions play over his face. Draco was never like this before this mystery woman entered his life. He was closed off, unfeeling...at least on the outside. He emulated his father well, but just as his father he had a warm spot for the woman he loved. “Is it that hard to believe that I just want to see you happy?”Draco couldn’t hold in the laugh. His fried emotions breaking, laughing too hard and too loud at the statement. When he pulled himself together he was met with an unimpressed face of his father staring at him. “Well?"“Yes, actually.”
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 11
Kudos: 157





	1. Prologue

It was silent around him, save for the quickened tempo of his knuckle against the table as he stared at the papers in his other hand, a bruise already staining the skin from the familiarity of the anxious habit. He was attempting to apply for his Master Potioneer license. It would be two years of studying, and it was an incredibly rigorous program, but he knew he could do it. If only he could get in. That was what was proving to be tricky.

Wrapped in his own thoughts, he failed to notice the witch peering over his shoulder. “You should apply,” a voice spoke up suddenly. He startled for a second, before the poise that had been practically bred in took over. 

“Hello, Granger,” he breathed, shoulders squaring, “ I know you enjoy reading, but over one’s shoulder is a bit much.” He was learning to simply exist in the same world as her. After all, they worked rather closely together now, the hard feelings of the past chipping away as the months passed. They both worked for the same side now, the same ministry. She, the golden girl of the war, was given a plushy research job that came with her own office and minions to boss around. Draco, the kid from the wrong side of the world...was one of those minions. He worked in research as well, as a potioneer. The position had her coming to him when she needed materials, ingredients, or on rare occasion, advice. She’d learned that he was  _ good _ at his job, and was starting to trust him more in aiding in her research. It had been a slow burn, but her uneasiness around him was melting away. And he found the same could be said for him. 

She rolled her eyes. “I just know it’s challenging to get into the program.”

“Are you questioning my intelligence?” 

She collapsed into the chair across from him. “I’d be insulting a lot of people if I tried to. In school you were second only to me.” He cocked an eyebrow at the backhanded compliment, but didn’t say anything in response as she continued. “I know it’s challenging and I know that a large portion of who gets in is based on politics.” She lowered her voice slightly, “And I know the politics of this world aren’t the kindest to you lately.” He had been prepared to hear malice in that statement, but found empathy instead.

He picked up the tapping once more, sucking air in through his teeth. He knew this, he was just hoping to get lucky. 

“How are your references?” 

“Okay,” he pulled out a sealed envelope. He wasn’t allowed to read what was written, the paper magicked to go up in flames if he tried, so he was just hoping it was a good one. “From McGonagall.” 

“And?”

“And what?”

She shook her head in disbelief, “You only have one? Malfoy, you need more than that.” The shock in her voice was genuine, and he couldn’t find the patronizing tone he was looking for.

He ground his teeth together, “Yeah...well...”

She tapped on her chin as she thought. “Well obviously I’ll write you one...and I suppose I could talk Shacklebolt into it. Though I’m sure he’d be sad to see you go. I know I will. You’re one of the few here that actually listen to me here.”

He just blinked at her. He couldn’t believe that Hermione Granger, the girl he was quite terrible to for years, who was tortured in his home, who he had only just become less than frosty toward, would be willing to help him like this. “You would do that?” 

He was looking for a trick in her voice, but didn’t find it. Wide eyes and almost a smile greeted him. “Yes, I think you would do great in the program. It needs more talented people.” 

“Thank you,” his voice barely above a whisper.

“Don’t mention it. I hope you get in.” She smiled softly at him, full of forgiveness. 

And he couldn’t believe what he saw. 

* * *

It was a few months after that conversation when Draco burst into Hermione’s office. Surprise and a little bit of fear crossed her features, but when she saw who it was, it eased. And Draco couldn’t help but feel good about that. A smile was on his face and she decided she liked the way the foreign feature looked on him. 

He stood in front of her, all of a sudden realizing that he had nothing prepared to say. So in a rushed breath, “I got in.” Said in disbelief and a little hope. 

She jumped up from her desk, “That’s amazing!” Ever the Gryffindor and their abundance of emotion. 

She was too close all of a sudden and he found he couldn’t quite breathe. It had been months of friendliness. They had lunch together now and then, she called him in for his opinion on what she was working on, he gave it even when she didn’t ask, and there was a new goodwill between the pair. But now she was close, breaching his personal space. He thought she might hug him, but she instead backed off at the last second and leaned against the front of her desk. She looked away from him as her brain caught up with her body, a blush just hinting at daring to stain her skin, “I knew you would.”

He smirked inwardly at the color to her face, giving him the confidence to bring up why he came. “I…” Okay not that much confidence. A deep breath and he tried again. “I wanted to thank you for your help. Your reference is what got me in.”

“Oh I’m sure that’s not true!” She laughed off the thought, waving it off with her hand.

A chuckle erupted from his chest, “No it is. They told me so. Politics matter and having someone as  _ good _ as you endorsing me made all the difference.”

She seemed surprised by this but then tittered, “You say ‘good’ like it’s a dirty word.”

He rolled his grey eyes, “Well when I’m speaking about a Gryffindor, it might as well be. Half of your good deeds were illegal.”

“That’s not true!” Hermione laughed, “It was definitely more than half. And the rest were deadly or at least questionable.” White teeth sank into a plush bottom lip, keeping her smile under control so as not to scare him away.

He found himself joining in in her mirth, enjoying seeing her like this. He had only known the stick in the mud, rule maker, dull Hermione that she often portrayed at work for too long. Seeing her laugh, make a little fun of herself, break the rules...it was good for him. 

She was playing with the feather of her quill, clearly thinking about something when he decided to be brave and speak again. “I’d like to say thank you for everything. Maybe over dinner?” 

A soft thud came from the quill being dropped onto the surface of the desk. She looked at him with wide eyes, her mouth slightly open in confusion. “Dinner?” She squeaked out before clearing her throat. 

Spurred on by the effect he had on her he poked the bear a bit. “Yes Granger, dinner. You know that meal we eat in the evening. Gives us our nutrients for the end of the day.”

She walked away from him, giving herself some space, but her next statement still came out on a laugh, “You’re such a prat!’ 

Seeing the skin of her neck turn red gave him a bit of bravery. “A prat that will be eating dinner alone tonight or will he be accompanied by someone equally as annoying?”

“If those are the only options, definitely alone.” He swallowed hard at her statement, but she didn’t let him think the worst for too long. “Because you’ll never find someone as annoying as you.” Bright eyes and a demure smirk decorated her face. 

Draco rolled his eyes at her once again, leaning his hips into her desk. “I don’t know about that, Granger. You’re giving me quite the run for my money.” 

She stared at him, her smirk now a full formed smile, though she was nibbling at the corner of her mouth. “Well I guess I’ll have to go easier on you so you can use that money to buy me dinner tonight.” It wasn’t as confident as it sounded, and he was delighted that she was just as nervous as him. Though he couldn’t tell why. This was just a budding friendship. Though he didn’t have many lasting friendships, it could be nerves over that. “What did you expect me to say no?”

“Pfft. Expected an argument over payment honestly.”

“Oh please,” she blushed a delicate pink, “ I know how to graciously accept a gift.” Maybe it was the way she said it from under her lashes, or the way she stood up to lean into him as she said it, but suddenly friendship was pushed a little further from his mind. “7 work for you? Gives me enough time to look like a human acceptable to be in public after work.”

He swallowed hard, “7 is perfect.”

“Great,” her teeth were biting into that bottom lip of hers again. “It’s a date.”    
  


* * *

It’s a date is just a phrase, obviously. He couldn’t believe that she would ever want to go on an actual date with him. This is what he was telling himself later that night as he walked up to the apparition point they had agreed upon. But then...then he saw her already waiting there for him. Perpetually early she had her back to him. He was graced with a few minutes just to take in the woman that was Hermione Granger. Her hair was tamed, but not too perfect. She had a knee length, thin strapped navy blue dress with a pair of low heels. In other words: she definitely looked like she was on a date.

“Hi,” he whispered as he approached. 

She greeted him with a soft smile. “Hi yourself.” 

He wasn’t good at this. “You look nice,” he said lamely. 

“Thank you,” she nodded in appreciation. Maybe at the compliment, maybe at his own appearance because she continued, “you as well.”    
  
“You okay with side-along?” 

She sighed, “No, but I’ll do it anyway.” She despised side-along apparition. It always made her stomach tie in knots...and it already was doing that on its own tonight. For some completely unknown reason having absolutely nothing to do with the fact that her enemy turned coworker turned friend asked her to dinner. And she had called it a date. And he hadn’t corrected her. 

He gave her a questioning look but didn’t press at her weird response and even weirder the myriad of emotions that played across her face after it. “Then let’s go.” He looped his arm through hers, startling slightly at the feel of it. But soon it was out of his mind as they spun into their new location.

They stood on the sidewalk in front of an ancient Baroque style building. He looked at her as she stared up at it with a puzzled look on her face. She looked at the book made of marble, its pages magically turning now and then to signify the passing minutes. “A library?”

Her question had him tilting his head. “Have you never been here? It seems right up your alley…”He wanted to believe that he knew the woman fairly well. But he didn’t need to know her past her reputation to know this was the perfect place for her. While the bookworm certainly did have many facets of her personality beyond her studious ambitions, there was a reason she was known for them. It was such an easy hit that he was shocked no previous friend or even boyfriend had ever brought her. Sure it was far, but they had magic.

She stared up at the strong, but  undulating curves of the building.  “No, what’s so special about it? Other than it obviously being beautiful.”

He still hadn’t removed his arm from being linked with hers, but she hadn’t either. So he gently tugged her forward, “Let’s go find out.” 

They stepped inside the building and the beauty settled warmly in their chests. Grand architect, sweeping arches, grouped columns, large globes - all from different moments in history - decorating the walkway, and rows upon rows of books as high as the ceiling. The ceiling which looked like it was charmed into looking like the soft pink and orange glow of sunrise in the clouds, but truly was painted on. The true magic. 

“Wow.” She looked as if she had seen one of the seven wonders, because in her opinion, she might as well have. 

He guided her around the many rooms of the building, pointing out specific artifacts, books, and artwork that he thought she might particularly like. And it seemed like he was doing a good job at it, since each time he eyes lit up. It wasn’t until he heard her stomach rumble that he led them to the restaurant hidden inside this gem of a building.    
  
“This place has everything,” she smiled as they were seated. Draco couldn’t help but stare at the woman in front of him, so full of life and happiness. None of it locked away, just out there for the world to see. To see her with him. 

The night continued as such, pleasantly full of a mixture of gentle chides and deep discussions. He surprised her, and she returned the favor. 

When they left the  pulchritudinous building it was with full hearts and tired face muscles from smiling and laughing all night through. She had dared to grab his hand when they walked out of the building, and he hadn’t minded one bit, a soft smile forming on his face as he looked at their entwined fingers. “Draco…” she inhaled deeply, not having planned out her words and settling for a classic, “I had a really good time tonight.” 

He couldn’t stop his smile as he looked at her, “Me too. Maybe...maybe we could make this a regular thing?” They were standing dumbly in front of the library, somehow each passing second bringing their bodies closer together until they were practically  touching.   
  
“I would really like that,” she whispered, close enough that he could feel her breath at his collar.    
  
Draco Malfoy wasn’t stupid when it came to girls, though not nearly as well versed as some foul rumors may have had one believe, and he knew where this was going. He just needed to take the leap. And leaps were something she had been helping him make lately, so what else did he expect. “Hermione.” 

“Hmm?” She practically purred. 

He pulled her closer, “I’m going to kiss you now.” 

Her head was already angled and eyes were already shutting when she whispered back, “Finally.”    
  
The kiss started off softly, but grew in intensity at a gentle gradation that made them start to understand why people describe kissing as melting, because suddenly they couldn’t even tell where one person ended and another began. Neither had ever been kissed like this before, never had had it feel this right before. Hands brushed against skin; cupping her face, gripping at his neck. He heard her hum in pleasure and he decided that he now had a favorite sound. 

When they broke apart he couldn’t help but chuckle, “You’re always going to have the last word, huh?” His voice was husky with emotion.

She was already leaning in to continue what they had started, “Always.”

  
  


* * *

Narcissa Malfoy, though quiet in nature, was quite the observant mother. Even though he was now 20, she kept tabs on her son from his whereabouts to his emotions. Even if it was rather difficult to figure out the latter. But today she watched from the doorway of the living room as he puttered about, humming as he went. Humming wasn’t something she had heard him do before.    
  
“What is that sound you’re making?”

Her voice had startled him, but his wide eyes crinkled in the corners as an easy smile washed over his face. How peculiar. “Hmm?”

“That noise.” 

He laughed a little at her interrogation, “Humming, I suppose.” He shrugged.

She narrowed her eyes at her son, “I’ve never known you to be musically inclined before.” 

His smile grew wider as he chided his mother, “ I hardly think humming makes me musically inclined.” 

“Well, why on earth are you doing as such?” 

He looked at her, confusion coloring his face as he started to think about it. But again, a small smile appeared, “I guess I’m just in a good mood...happy.” 

Now this was news. Draco was rarely happy. Content, sure. But happy? Truly happy where he would admit to the feeling? Almost never. 

Narcissa wanted to press on, find out the reason why her son suddenly seemed uplifted. But just as she went to ask he turned on his heels and exited the door. A soft “goodbye mother,” on his exhale. 

Later Narcissa sat alone at the dining room table, thinking about her run in with her son, when her husband approached. “Stop making that face,” he nodded at her furrowed brow, “you’ll get wrinkles.” 

She let out a noise of indignation, “Lucius!” 

He rolled his eyes, and she knew exactly where Draco had gotten that move from, “It was a joke, my dear.” 

She didn’t have time for his jokes, she had important matters to discuss. “Our son is happy.” 

His brow furrowed now, unsure why his wife’s speech and sentiment didn’t align. “And our son’s happiness is a cause for concern?” 

“Well, yes,” she rolled her shoulders back. “He’s never been so outright in his feelings. He told me today that he was happy.” She knew it sounded odd. “ I caught him humming.” 

“Humming?” He cocked an eyebrow at the thought.

“Humming.” 

He seemed to ponder this a bit. “I didn’t know he was musically inclined.” 

“Precisely, my love.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there! It's been about 6 years since I've last written any type of fanfiction, so take it easy on me. Over the past years my writing ability has gone to scientific papers and journals, so forgive any stiffness.
> 
> Anyway, this is just a little something I've had bouncing around my brain for a while and finally sat down to write. This is just the prologue of a little three-shot. The rest should be up soon!
> 
> Thanks for reading, and please let me know what you think! -S


	2. Interlude

Hermione stretched out in the familiar bed that wasn’t her own. Ever the early riser she rolled over to see the man she had been sharing a bed with for two years. Their relationship was anything but conventional. They knew what they were and what they had. They weren’t for anyone other than them. 

It wasn’t something that Hermione ever thought she would be okay with, would want. Him either. But, after much discussion and a few moments of ending it only to fall back together, it was what they had. And they were happy, truly.   
  
They just couldn’t stop too long to think about their lack of future. 

She turned her head to the noise that had awoken her. An owl tapping at the glass of the window, the early frost of a spring morning still clinging to flight feathers. She stood and padded her way over, letting the creature in to give a little shake to remove the condensation. It cooed at her before dipping its beak into the dish of owl treats kept on the sill, keeping one leg outstretched for the human to remove the letter it carried. 

Hermione did as such, trying not to disturb the animal’s breakfast. She saw Draco’s name written in script and then flipped the envelope over to see the wax seal, hunter green in color with a G stamped firmly in the center. Hermione’s hand flexed around the letter unconsciously, bending the edges, as her teeth met the inside of her right cheek until she tasted iron. She opened her eyes that she didn’t realize had been closed in a slow blink, breathing in deeply as she chided herself for this. She knew what this was, what they were. She couldn’t be angry when his future wife contacted him. Logically, that would be unreasonable. 

But still...it hurt like the jagged edge of a dropped glass meeting your palm as you picked up pieces. You’re just trying to do the right thing, but it bites you anyway. 

The bird realized that they need not wait for a response, and startled the woman in front of it when it decided to spread its wings with a low squawk. Then off it went, back out to face the cold morning and leaving Hermione with her thoughts. 

She wasn’t sure how long she stood in thought at the open window, but a cold gust of wind brought her back to the present as goose-flesh prickled up her skin. She closed the window with a dull thud and made her way back to the warm bed from which she came. 

The person who had been sharing it had rolled over, stealing the warmth that she had left behind. With a soft sigh she laid down behind him, wrapping an arm and leg over his body and pulling tight, as tight as her chest was feeling. 

Tight enough to stir the sleeping man, who blinked rapidly before tilting his head to look back at the person draped over him. “Morning.”

She didn’t respond verbally, instead buried her face into the back of his neck and a stuttered inhale. He read into it and knew where her mind was. She got this way lately when she was reminded of their situation. He flipped over to face her, turning in her arms and pulling her close into his. She heard him whisper a “sorry,” as she drifted back to sleep, her sorrow swallowing her whole.

She awoke to a similar scenario; an owl at the window. This time waiting for the knot to be tied securely around its leg before taking flight. She caught grey eyes as they flicked over at her no longer sleeping form. 

“Morning,” he tried again. 

It was better received. “Good morning,” she stretched. 

He toyed with the quill in his hand as he met her eye. “Do you want to know?”

“You know me, always curious.” 

He sighed, a complex emotion coming with it. “I just have dinner with the Greengrass family next week. Nothing to worry about quite yet though, don’t worry.” 

“You say that like it’s easy,” she bit. 

He approached her slowly, going to apologize again but she stopped him. “I know, _I know_. It’s not your fault, the situation just….it just sucks.” 

He had the audacity to chuckle at that. “Yeah, it does suck.”

Because sometimes...all you need in a moment it to feel heard, not for someone try to remedy the situation or change your emotions, but someone just to agree that it sucks.

* * *

Lucius Malfoy was far from a patient man. This was currently being proven true as he tapped his wand against the hardwood of their meeting table. The Sacred 28 met once a month to discuss upholding pureblood values. Now of course, this was no death eater meeting. Many of them had been death eaters at one point, but they understood now that this was no longer the way of the world. The ministry had proposed a multitude of solutions to stamp out those ideals, many of which would have eliminated all pureblood lines. In order to stop that from happening members of the 28 families took over, forming their own club of sorts, to abide by the ministry rules and prove that they were no longer a threat to the _good of wizard kind_. ‘Good’ being the ministry's definition. 

Instead they were trying to abide by these rules while keeping up their lines. It was still mostly meetings about who was to marry whom, children and lineage, and how to keep prominent families prominent. They no longer were attempting to change others’ views, but create a guide of how their own should behave. Pureblood pride ran strong, but no longer dangerously so to those outside of them.

“The next item on the agenda is a little more personal,” Lelia Avery, the secretary for their group spoke in a solemn voice. “It’s about the children.”

A soft rustle of bristling bodies and uncomfortable shifting before someone else spoke. “Well it is about time someone brought this up,” another woman snipped. 

A gentleman grunted in agreement, but argued, “ We all know why no one wants to discuss it.”

“Because no one wants to be the one to fix the problem.” 

The “problem” was that children, grandchildren of the Sacred 28 had been coming out...less than perfect. Various disabilities and challenges didn’t matter too much to the purebloods, they were used to these things as their families were so closely interwoven, but now it had started to affect their magic. 

Avery spoke up again, “Two squibs have been born in the last year alone.” Another unhappy and collective murmur came from the group. 

“Well we can’t be sure they are squibs yet, they’re only infants,” came from Mrs. Bulstrode, who’s daughter Millicent had married a Rosier. Their first child had been born 10 months ago, and tested negative for magic ability. A test purebloods have had for centuries. Previous traditions included culling those who tested negative in infancy. These days, this was not practiced, but those children were still negatively affected. Millicent had nannies for her child, but little contact with her. It was hard for someone who had been conditioned that magic is above all, to love a squib. The other squib child was lucky to have parents who loved them, but they no longer were part of the Sacred 28 due to this. In fact they had moved to another country to avoid the disappointment in their parents’ eyes. 

Avery rolled her shoulders back, lifting her chin to stare down her nose at the woman, “You say that only because of your grandchild. Our tests have never been wrong before. We all know that this has been an issue for generations, and it is catching up to us now.”

Lucius Malfoy decided he needed to end the conversation so he could go about his day. But he also had an ulterior motive as well. “What if,” he started slowly, seeming to have difficulty with the words coming from him, “one of our unmarried children had a child that was…less than full blood.”

There was a slight gasp among the people. They knew this was the only viable suggestion. It had been done in years past, never spoken of, of course. “A child out of wedlock? Never!” A woman spoke up.

“Of course not. They’ll marry them.” Lucius rolled his eyes, they weren’t going to give up all of their traditions. 

The room was quiet for a while. The members arguing with their ideals vs self preservation instinct. 

There was a sigh in the breath of the man that spoke to break the silence. “If we are going to do this. We should do it the ways that have proven to work in the past. Marry them off to fresh blood.”

A sharp intake of breath by another member, “A muggle?”

“Or mudblood,” a pained voice croaked, “It is the way.”

“It is the way,” was muttered in response from many.

Lucius looked around at the people around him. None of them would want to offer up their sons or daughters. But that also meant that the next generation of theirs may be less than ideal. “What if I volunteer my son?” Now to think that Lucius Malfoy would ever offer up his son to marry a muggle…it seemed impossible. And the faces surrounding him showed that, all disbelief. “It’s a win-win for me. I do something good for our noble cause. I do something that will lessen the chance of my family having squibs in it. And I do something that looks good on the Malfoy name to the public. My son marrying a muggle? The ministry may allow themselves to recognize his value without the stigma we have received.”

“But his heir…it’ll be half blood.”

Lucius bit down, grinding his molars together, “We should be used to making sacrifices at this point. Magic is the most important aspect, blood can be forgiven, magic ability cannot. “

No one could find fault in his logic. After all Lucius was a selfish man, and to think that he would do anything that benefited others beyond his cause was unfathomable. Even if it was the truth.

* * *

  
  


Lucius waited a few days after the meeting before he knocked on the door in front of him. Moments later his son pulled open the door quickly, a wide grin on his face and a lack of shirt on his back. “Did you forget someth-,” he started but trailed off as he locked eyes with the person in front of him. The last person he expected at his door. Draco had moved out two years ago and never once had either of his parents been by. They hadn’t understood his rush to leave and simply hoped he would return if they didn’t pay it any mind. “Father?” 

Lucius took in his son’s appearance, ruffled blond locks out of place, shirtless, low slung trousers on his hips. He had clearly gotten there just as someone else had left. 

“Come on in,” Draco opened the door wider, side stepping to allow his father entrance. He often walked around his home like this, but under his father’s gaze he felt awkward doing so. The Malfoys were not a skin showing family. “Err, just let me go put some actual clothes on. You caught me on my day off and I’m afraid I’ve gotten a late start to the morning.” It was 8:12 precisely, which wasn’t a late start for most people, but Malfoy men were early risers. 

Lucius took in the appearance of the flat. It was...warm. He knew Draco’s taste was colder, more sterile. It was clear someone else’s influence had touched the place. He wandered into the kitchen, sparkling clean other than the two mugs left on the table. One held a half full breakfast black tea, Draco’s no doubt. The other was mostly empty, just a beige colored pool at the bottom with a strong smell, coffee. He wrinkled his nose, he had never been a fan; far too muggle for his taste. 

“So what brings you by?” A voice carried from down the hall. Lucius looked up to see his son buttoning the last few buttons on his shirt as he walked toward him. The younger man had expected him to be where he left him, but panned to see him in the kitchen. 

“Cute,” his father spoke as he tapped the message board on the refrigerator. A message was scribbled in a small, tight script. 

_Dinner at mine tonight. 6pm. Yours, H._

”Yours, huh?” 

Draco rolled his eyes, trying - but failing - to sound casual, “It’s just a signature, father.” Lucius watched his son for a few moments, the unease growing as the seconds passed. Draco cast a warming charm over his tea, before bringing it to his lips. “Tea?”

Lucius smiled a bit at that. Draco was always defaulting to politeness in his parents’ presence. “No, thank you.”

Draco leaned against the counter, rubbing the back of his neck as he asked the question burning the tip of his tongue again, one he hadn’t received an answer to before. “So, what brings you here?”

“Well,” Lucius smirked, “I’m here to discuss your affair with that muggle woman of yours.” 

Tea sprayed to the floor as Draco choked on it. It took him a few moments to pull himself together. “Excuse me?” 

Lucius wiped off some of the offending liquid that had splashed onto his robes. “Exactly what I said, Draco. Care to explain?”

The politeness slipped, “Salazar’s balls, how did you come to this conclusion?!”

Lucius cocked an eyebrow before gesturing around him, “Look around you. This isn’t the work of a single man, and certainly not my son. This place is far too cozy to not have been touched by a woman. Not to mention that love note and the fact that you must have said goodbye to someone this morning, someone who had spent the night here.” 

“I could have hired a decorator…” Draco muttered out, knowing there was no convincing his father. Lucius didn’t need to say anything, just stared at his son until he continued speaking. “I may be involved with someone, but I would hardly call it an affair seeing as I’m not married.”

“Not married yet,” his father corrected. 

Draco didn’t meet his eyes, “Yes, yes, I am well aware of my engagement. And so is this woman I’m seeing. We know there is an expiration date on what we have.” The last portion was said just barely above a whisper. It was full of morose feeling, his chest constricting.

“So I was right, a muggle?”

Draco sucked in a breath, “Why do you assume as much?”

“You didn’t correct me, and knowing my views you would have denied it instantly if it wasn’t true. Plus, otherwise we would have met her, I’m sure. Why else would you hide her away these last two years?”

Draco’s face pinched, “You’ve known for two years?” He had thought he had done a decent job of hiding his relationship. 

“Your mother suspected someone was in your life the day you willingly told her that you were happy. I remember the conversation well.” 

Draco swallowed hard. He didn’t know what to say. A cat caught in the cream. 

But what Lucius said next confused Draco more, causing yet another coughing fit. _He really needed to stop drinking this tea_ , he thought as he poured it down the sink drain. “I think you should marry her, your muggle girl.” 

“What?!” A thousand thoughts went through his head. Mostly, “Who are you and what did you do to my father?” 

“Now, now, don’t get worked up over this. Hear me out, Draco.” He explained the conversation with the others of his group. Explained how he had volunteered his son to be the one to ‘take one for the team,’ as it was. “But why? “Why did you offer me up? You seem like the least likely person to do such a thing. To offer up your heir to marry off someone of ‘lesser blood’ like this.” 

Lucius studied his son, watched the emotions play over his face. Draco was never like this before this mystery woman entered his life. He was closed off, unfeeling...at least on the outside. He emulated his father well, but just as his father he had a warm spot for the woman he loved. “Is it that hard to believe that I just want to see you happy?” 

Draco couldn’t hold in the laugh. His fried emotions breaking, laughing too hard and loud at the statement. When he pulled himself together he was met with an unimpressed face of his father staring at him. “Well?

“Yes, actually.” 

“Yes, it is hard to believe?”

The younger man’s eyes narrowed.“Yes, you’ve never cared before. Blood meant more to you than anything else, even my health, forget my happiness.” The words stung, but were not untrue. Lucius had spent much too long putting his beliefs ahead of his family. While he had changed in that way, he did still hold onto his blood purity views, even if they were now second to his family. Before he thought that what he was doing would benefit his family, but now...now he saw the error in that. An error his wife had corrected all those years ago. “I know things have changed slightly for you, but...but this isn’t something that I would ever see you saying.” 

“Well, as I’ve said it benefits us all. The family name looks better to the wizarding world, from both sides of the war. One sees a Malfoy marrying a muggle and putting old ways behind us. The other sees a Malfoy helping support preserving the magic in our lines, to better support future generations of purebloods...even if a half blood is born to do this.”

“I see…” he trailed off, pacing the kitchen now. “She’s not a muggle, you know.” 

He clucked his tongue, “No? A mudblood perhaps?”

Draco sighed after jolting slightly at the word. It held new feelings for him. It was a word he stared at numerous nights, covering it with his hand as he made love to the woman whose skin was branded with it. 

The older man noticed the response, “a muggle born, that is.” 

Letting out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, he exhaled, “Yes, a muggle born witch. She’s brilliant. Better at magic than I.” 

Lucius didn’t love hearing his son putting a mudblood over himself, a pureblood. But he bit his tongue on this, instead settling on, “All the better for this purpose then.”

“And why should I subject her to this? She’d never be accepted into our lives. I want her to be happy, even if it isn’t with me.” Draco wouldn’t meet his eyes again, his words rounded and soft. The sentiment was true, even if it may kill the man if that happened. 

Lucius approached his son, a hand outreached to land on his shoulder. “Draco, from the moment this woman is wed to you, she becomes a Malfoy. She becomes the wife of my only son, and eventually the mother of my grandchildren. She becomes family. And you should know, Malfoys are fiercely loyal to their family. No one will dare speak ill to or of her without the wrath of your mother and I.” 

Draco noticed an increase of moisture in his eyes. He had never thought that his parents would allow him this happiness. At 15 he had been told he would have an arranged marriage. At 18 he was told it would be one of the Greengrass girls. At 19 the older of the two girls was married off the Zabini heir, leaving the younger for Draco. She was only 17 at the time, legal but still too young for her mother’s standards. They became engaged when the girl turned 20, Draco just having turned 23. But, then he met _her_ and life changed. The engagement was drawn out, neither party really wanting to marry the other. Their parents were not rushing it because at least they were engaged. And then the truth of Astoria’s blood curse came to light, with the Malfoys no longer sure whether their son should marry the girl. Draco allowed this uncertainty to benefit him as he continued his relationship with Hermione. 

“And...and what about Astoria then?”

“The contract has been voided. For a variety of reasons truly…” Astoria knew what it would mean to marry into the Malfoy family. There would be an expectation of children. He also knew his son wanted to start a family of his own. But, it was well known that Astoria having children was risky due to her condition. It could leave Draco a widow at an early age. Astoria herself wasn’t sure that was something she could do. Draco himself had been ready to end the line for her health, though he had never told her that. He didn’t love her, couldn’t even say he really _liked_ her...but they were friendly enough. 

“So…” Draco swallowed hard, “I really am free to marry whom I please?” 

“You are,” he couldn’t stop the smile from pulling at the corners of his mouth. Perhaps...perhaps this was all worth it. To see the relief that flooded his son. The way his eyes upturned and his grin showed his teeth. 

“Thank you,” his voice cracked. He coughed a bit to get it under control. Slight color flooding his pale skin in embarrassment. His father had never seen him like this and he wasn't going to make it a habit.

* * *

Hermione was sitting in her office, head bent at an angle she would pay for later as she wrote a report, when her door burst open. In came her boyfriend, a wide grin on his face as he caught her startled expression. 

“What’s the commotion for, Mr. Malfoy.” She was going for professionalism at work, but the amused smile on her face gave her away. 

He had an easy smile on his face, “I wanted to see you.” He was nearly vibrating since he was so excited. 

“You saw me this morning,” she narrowed her eyes as she made the glass windows of her office frost over, delicate patterns spiraling across the panes.

“I know,” he said with a shrug and a bounce in his step as he closed the distance. “I want to change our plans tonight.”

She bit the inside of her cheek, assuming he was canceling dinner for reasons she wouldn’t like but wasn’t allowed to have an opinion on. “Oh, that’s fine…”

“Yeah,” he reached out to grab her hand, pulling her into his body. “Wear something nice, but casual. I’ll pick you up at 6.” She rolled her eyes a little, "You could have just owled me this, you know." "Then I couldn't do this," he kissed her quickly and with a pop, was gone. 

She could practically taste the laugh he left on.

* * *

  
  


“She’s a muggleborn,” Lucius announced as he walked into the room.

“Oh,” Narcissa raised her head to view her husband. “Well that is easier than a muggle on everyone then, isn't it?” 

“Yes,” the older man sat across from his wife. “You were right, he’s happy.”

* * *

Precisely on time Draco appeared before Hermione’s door. All nerves and a slight shake to his hands. When she opened the door she picked up on the change from his normal confidence, but forgoed mentioning it. Instead she smiled at him as she shut the door behind her and walked to the apparition point with him. She had stopped putting up a fight when it came to side along a long time ago. Draco surprised her with random locations too often for her to not get used to it. 

Silence passed easily between the two partners as they walked, him eventually taking her arm and disappearing with her.

When they appeared she instantly recognized the place. The beautiful building from years ago; full of books, culture, and memories. They spent the night the same as the first, exploring and talking, falling in love.

The night found them between the shelves of old manuscripts, somewhere no one else would bother. She was talking passionately about some author that she loved, and he swore he would come back to find something by him so they could discuss it at length. 

He stared at her, taking in the blush on her face and smiling tugging at her lips. He knew there would never be another that made him feel this way. She was his radiant warmth. “I love you.” 

Her breath caught in her throat, but she tentatively whispered his name in a warning. The smile was gone from her face and instead it was replaced with a spark of hope mixed with utter disappointment. He just shook his head at her slowly. “I know, _I know_.” They had promised each other they wouldn’t say it, even if they felt it. There was no point when their relationship had an expiration date. “Do you feel the same way?” 

She anxiously picked at her cuticles, no longer meeting his eyes. “Draco…please don’t do this to me.” Her voice was still a whisper that he wouldn’t have heard if they hadn’t been hidden in the stacks of books, where no sound could reach them.

His long fingers ghosted over her face, landing to cup her cheek and pull her eyes up to meet his. He didn’t move past that. Just matched her tone, “Hermione, please.” 

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Draco. You know what we agreed on.” Her eyes were a complicated mixture of sorrow and anger as she spoke, a slight bite to her words. She had been on edge about this feeling that something had changed in him all night. Her worry was that things may be proceeding with his future marriage quicker than originally planned, fearing that this was goodbye. “What, you want me to stroke your ego? Tell you how I feel about you so you know for sure before you end it with me? Nothing I can say will change anything, so what’s the point? Why make me admit to loving you when you know damn well the significance of that won’t hold any significance at all?” She was spitting the words at him, the hurt showing through on her features. Slightly unhinged and devolving rapidly from the normally controlled person she pretended to be.

He stared at her, confused at his own emotions. One side was full of sadness that she was angry at him for this, but the other side was ecstatic. She had said she loved him. It was said in anger and with fire behind it, but for them...he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

“What?” She cried, annoyed at the small smile that he didn’t know was on his face. 

It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t a fairy tale like he had hoped he could give her after years of promising no fairy tale ending. It was messy and she was mad and he was happy and things were complicated and it wasn’t the right time, but it _was_ the damn time. “Marry me.” He had meant it like a question, but it was a soft demand, a suggestion. 

Her eyes changed from angry and thin to confused and wide. “What?” The same question, different tone. 

“Marry me,” he chuckled at the awkwardness of the situation as he slowly pulled a ring box out of his pocket. He should do this right, “Will you marry me? I mean.” He slid the box at her. 

She took the box in her hand, carefully like it was made of glass, and stared at it in disbelief, untrusting. “But…” Her anger was crashing into waves of confusion and drowning in hope.

He watched as she peaked inside the box, slowly, like it might bite. “But nothing. There are no other complications. This is me, a man who has been in love with you for two years, asking to marry you, a woman who - against your better judgement - admitted to loving me as well.”

She snapped the box shut quickly, “Of course there are complications. What about your fiance?”

“I don’t have one anymore.” Then he laughed and shook his head, “Well I guess I was hoping for one starting tonight.”

The entirety of their relationship played behind her eyes. And when she took out all of the parts, the complications, that stood between them...it was good. It was too good not to say yes to him. So she did.

“Yes,” a smile on her face growing as she spoke, “yes, I’ll marry you.” 

They enjoyed dinner, in the same location they had years ago, again with something new budding between them. Of course Hermione couldn’t be kept in the dark of this blissful bubble for too long and Draco filled her in. He told her how his contract with Astoria was voided. He told her all about his parents speaking up for his happiness, and didn’t neglect the benefits he and his parents knew he would receive. She knew that the loving relationship that they had coming to light would throw up some flags still, but at the end of the day the Sacred 28 were still getting their fresh blood. No one foresaw them having too much of an issue with it beyond whispered murmurs. They discussed that this meant that they would need to have at least one child. Hermione laughed when she stated she wanted better adjusted children than the pair of them had been, so she wanted at least three. Draco, who always longed for a bigger family, beamed at the thought. 

The next morning he brought her home to his parents, who truthfully didn’t look as shocked as they should have. 

“Well you never did shut up about the girl that always bested you in school,” his mother chided. 

Lucius never had liked the Granger girl, but looking at the way his son’s persona had shifted from dull and concaving to light and free from his demons...he could be okay with it. Time passed and each time he met her he learned to like her more. Saw the fire and bite that attracted his son to her. Neither of the Malfoy men were meant for demure women, he proved that by marrying his wife. His wife who found that she quite liked Hermione from the start. She left behind the girl talk of shopping and gossip and instead dove into talk of travel, family, books, politics...things of substance with a girl who challenged them all. In fact she loved the way Hermione battled Lucius on everything, but gods when they agreed on the topic of something? There was no changing their minds and she felt pity for whoever tried.

Hermione of course had told her friends. Her parents had known about Draco since their first date. She hadn’t said his name or their exact details of their relationship, so her parents never knew about the hang ups of before. They were happy he had finally proposed. She tried to remind them that two years is not that long for a relationship, but they told her that with a love like theirs, it was. 

Her friends reacted better than she thought. They were more angry with her for keeping secrets, but overall understood why it worked out the way it did. Harry, who had worked with Malfoy before, knew he was a good guy. He also admitted to once trying to set them up before he found out about his marriage contract. He thought they would be a good pair, and it seems he was right. Ron was confused more than anything, something not entirely new, but came around to the idea. He never promised to be the guy’s best friend, but could be okay with him being his best friend’s husband. She could live with that.

Wedding plans rolled out fast. Hermione wasn’t the girl who dreamed of the day she got to wear white. She left the majority of it up to Narcissa, putting in her input here and there, but otherwise staying out of the way. She didn’t care what the day looked like, she was just happy to be marrying the person she was. And she couldn’t wait to start their new life, out of the shadows and into the light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello! This is the middle of our little three part story. The Epilogue will be soon to follow, so don't worry, you'll get your wedding. ;)
> 
> As every author ever has said, reviews are what keep us going, so please leave your thoughts below! 
> 
> You may have seen that I am reposting an old story of mine, Astoria, that I wrote nearly 10 years ago. Which despite the name is Dramione. Hopefully this ties ya'll over as I work on the last part of Surreptitious. I work in healthcare in the US so life is a little extra crazy lately, but I'll try my hardest to get this last part out to you ASAP. 
> 
> Hope you're all staying safe and well!


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